


i'll go out and hunt the hidden dome

by poisonrationalitie



Series: Harry Potter Expanded Universe [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Aftermath of Violence, Blackmail, Breaking and Entering, Child Murder, Death Eaters, Gen, Murder, Purism (Harry Potter), Recruitment, Smoking, Stalking, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-07 22:47:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20983640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonrationalitie/pseuds/poisonrationalitie
Summary: alecto meets a man who knows all too much about her for this to be coincidence.





	i'll go out and hunt the hidden dome

**Author's Note:**

> For the Quarterly Event Sticker Collection. Rare Stickers - Dark Wizards - Alecto Carrow

“I don’t believe you.”

Alecto sucked on her cigarette, not taking her eyes off the man’s, who refused to give a proper name. The smoke hung in her mouth. She inhaled. The man sipped his bourbon. His face was half-hidden in the darkness of the dinghy pub. It was the early hours of the morning, and in all likelihood, the sun had begun to rise; but the patrons of the White Wyvern decided it was better that the windows were shuttered. For privacy, of course. It wasn’t overly reputable, but it was cheap and Alecto could voice her opinions after a few drinks without having to cop some idiot mudblood’s flack. She exhaled, but little smoke came out. “If he’s as powerful as you claim, he won’t give a shit about a girl barely graduated. I’m not a fucking idiot. I’m not going to sleep with you, either, so fuck off.”

He snorted, and she tensed. This was what she was getting at, for fuck’s sake. Powerful men didn’t need women. You didn’t need to be an O-student to know that. “Thank Godric. You think I’d want to sleep with you?” She made a face at him and brought her cigarette to her lips once more. Since starting Hogwarts, she’d had a vague awareness that she wasn’t considered attractive, and since thirteen, she’d been angry at herself for wanting to be. Even now, she was caught between a relief that he had no interest in her - maybe it meant that there really was interest in her skills - and embarrassment about the swift dismissal of the idea. The man leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “He doesn’t care what’s between your legs. If you’re loyal to the cause, if you believe in it, if the magic runs deep in you, he will accept you.”

Alecto blew smoke in his face. He recoiled, a dark look flashing across his face. “But he won’t accept insubordination.”

“Leaders never do,” she replied. “I wouldn’t, if I were in charge. It’d be my way or else.” She’d been selected as the best of the worst, really, of the Slytherin girls in her year to be a prefect, and that was how she had run things. After the first years and second years had started calling her ‘the Ugly One’ to distinguish her from the other two female prefects, she’d cracked down even harder, and there wasn’t a first or second year Slytherin that hadn’t received a detention at the hands of Alecto Carrow.

“Then you can respect him for that approach,” said the man, “and understand why it is necessary.” She grunted her agreement. “I hear you ruled with your own iron fist, at school.” She eyed him. Was he a legilimens? She hadn’t felt her mind be invaded, but she’d never experienced it before. “I have family at Hogwarts,” he said. It was a small nugget of information, barely anything. Mentally, she ran through some of those she’d given the most detentions to, and wondered if they were related to this man. 

“Say I join,” Alecto started. “We all believe in the same things. We want to make the world a better place. Great. Fantastic. We have a leader. Wonderful. How will we change anything? In case you haven’t noticed,” she waved a hand, “we’re already being overrun. They were getting into  _ Slytherin,  _ for Salazar’s sake.”

“It’s foul,” he agreed. “That’s why we need to act now.”

“How are we acting? You can’t just tell me that we’re acting and we’re not actually doing anything.”

Maybe most would have discouraged her from arguing. Godric knew all little girls were taught to be nice and polite and if an old, scary man came up to you at a bar at 6 in the morning and started talking to you, you meekly said ‘no thank you’ and apparated away as soon as possible.

“Come with me,” he said. “I’ll show you something. I think it’ll convince you.” He finished his bourbon in one more gulp, and stood. This was definitely the part where she was supposed to look for a friendly female face for assistance. She stubbed out her cigarette in the ash tray, and rose from her seat. He offered his arm.

She paused, considering.  _ If what he says is true, I’ll be okay. Even if it’s not true...he’s in the White Wyvern. He’s a pureblood. He won’t spill pure blood.  _ He offered his arm, and she took it. There was a  _ crack  _ and she felt her body being pulled in all directions. Then she was squished almost to a pulp. She clutched his arm tighter as she stumbled out onto a street. The sun had not yet risen here - she’d been partially wrong. It was a grey dawn, any first rays of light being obscured by a thick, dark cloud cover. Alecto didn’t recognise the street. The lights on their tall poles told her that it was a muggle area, for they were not candles. Muggle carriages lined the sides of the road. She scowled, and let go of him.

“Is this all some trick to change my mind about muggles?” she asked, sliding her hand into her jacket, grasping her wand. She hadn’t expected to be taken  _ here,  _ to some disgusting muggle den. 

“No,” he said, pursing his lips. “Certainly not. Follow me.” He started up the street. Here she could see his full figure. He was much taller than her, by nearly a foot, and had broad shoulders. She’d never liked Quidditch much, but anyone could tell it was a keeper’s build. After a moment’s hesitation, Alecto did as he asked. Her wand was drawn, and she pulled the hood of her cloak up, as he did. Something about the rows of houses and their strange lights sent a shiver up her spine. The neighbourhood was situated on a slow-sloping hill, and her legs began to hurt as they walked. Eventually, the man stopped, and turned towards one of the houses. The curtains were closed, and it looked virtually the same as every other. There was a low, plain fence that enclosed a tiny walkway and overgrown bushes. 

The man waved his wand, and the gate flung open. Already, it swung on just one hinge. Putrid scents wafted up her nostrils, and Alecto scoffed. Pigs were cleaner than this. She didn’t relish entering a muggle’s home, but she’d invested too much time in this not to see what lay inside. The man glanced over his shoulder, and nodded at her. There was a  _ click  _ as the door magically unlocked, and the door creaked open. Here, the stench was worse. Alecto waved a hand in front of her nose.

“This is fucking disgusting,” she said. “They’re not half as clean as animals.”

“Do you know the smell?” the man asked. His smile was crooked. She sniffed again. 

“No,” she spat, trying not to seem as naïve as she felt. There was a hitch in her breath. Her lips pursed. She followed the man up a narrow set of stairs. The scent grew stronger. In the back of her mind, in spite of having never smelt it, she knew. It was a sort of primal, instinctive knowing that she’d often dismissed. Purebloods were not animals, not creatures of instinct. They were refined and classy and well-bred and human.

Photos of a small family hung on the walls. Alecto lowered her eyes, focusing on the man’s footsteps. They came to the second floor, and despite herself, she coughed. He turned to her. Pain shot through her. He grabbed her wrist and twisted tightly.

“If I show you this,” he hissed. “Then you are sworn to the cause. If you tell any others, if you back out, if you decide this is not for you, after I show you this, I will kill you.” It hurt more than she expected. Alecto pressed her lips into a thin line. His grip tightened. 

“Okay,” she said. “Let go of me.” He dug his nails into her skin.  _ Fuck.  _ “Let go!” She swung her knee towards his stomach. He dodged. “Fuck!” she swore. He let go of her, and pushed open the door.

She grunted, holding her arm. The door had scribbles at the bottom -  _ can’t even clean their house, fucking pigs -  _ and pieces of white parchment with drawings on them stuck to the door, with what looked to be some muggle sort of Spellotape. She stepped inside, and coughed again. Alecto pulled a face. It smelt rotten. It was obviously a child’s room, probably a girl’s. The walls were wallpapered loudly with pink flowers, perfectly still. Her feet sunk into a Flobberworm rug. She assumed they didn’t call it the same thing here. Alecto caught her reflection in one of many mirrors in the room, and tugged her hood further over her face, covering her hair completely. On the bed, there was a lump beneath the blankets.

“Do you know why we did it?” the man asked. 

“Muggle?” Alecto tried. It seemed the most obvious answer. He reached over to the small desk. Immediately, she recognised the envelope he held between his fingers. “A fucking mudblood thief.” Flames stirred in the pit of her stomach, a glee slowly pumping through her body.

“Got her letter two days ago,” the man said. “Was ripe to steal someone’s spot at Hogwarts. To take their magic. Don’t know how the family did it - they’re certainly not very clever, are they?” He laughed, and Alecto joined. She felt a little dizzy with excitement. 

“You probably saved someone,” she said, breathless. “Some poor child waiting at home for any sign of magic. Godric.” Alecto shook her head. She could just imagine it. She still remembered the relief that had flooded her when she showed her first sign of magic. 

“That’s what we want,” he said. “That’s what we’re trying to do. We’re going to make this world a better place. Some people just object to the methods.” He slid the envelope into the pocket of his trousers. 

There was only one other bedroom in the small home. The blankets on the bed had been pulled up to cover the bodies. The room was less decorated, less of an assault on the eyes. The man waved his wand and appeared to be cleaning and fixing things. Alecto caught sight of an ashtray on one of the mismatched bedside tables. One cigarette had hardly been smoked. She took it between her fingers, examining it. She’d never smoked a muggle cigarette before. She wondered if it was much different. 

“I need to fix up some things downstairs,” he said. “And then we can help ourselves to a drink. In spite of their otherwise bad taste, they know their alcohol.” Alecto snorted, and left the room without giving the bed a second glance. She’d never seen dead bodies before. Technically, she still hadn’t. The worst part was the stench. She wished they hadn’t smelled so much. It made it all very unpleasant.

Their living room was equally ugly, with horrendous orange couches that looked like a Hufflepuff had puked daisies on it, and a square box on a pedestal as if it was some kind of statue. She twirled her wand in one hand and pointed it at the box. Blood raged against her wrists, and she felt as if her head was floating away from her body. Maybe it was the firewhiskey. Maybe not. “Reducto.” There was a loud  _ bang  _ as the box smashed.

“What the fuck?” The man yelled, racing into the living room. He held a bottle of bourbon in one hand. The brand was unfamiliar. “How stupid are you? That’ll wake the whole bloody neighbourhood.”

“And we’ll confundus them,” Alecto said, mirth rising in her throat. He’d killed the three people upstairs - surely confunding some other muggles would be no problems. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Fucking eighteen-year-olds. You’ll need training. We have to go. Now.” She jerked her wrist, making the rough shape of a flame, and the tip of her wand lit up. She put the stolen cigarette between her lips, and lit it. Alecto inhaled deeply, stowing her wand in her pocket, and then pulled the cigarette away.

“Fine,” she said. “Sorry.”  _ How dramatic,  _ she thought.  _ Fucking idiot.  _ He shrugged, exhaling loudly.

“They were right about you being good at curses,” he said, offering his arm. She grinned, sucking on the cigarette once more, and they disapparated.


End file.
